A Series of Challenge Writes
by Dimonah Tralon
Summary: Challenge summary inside.
1. Gravesite

Me: Hey all! Well, I'm very proud of myself--this is my first challenge fic, and I think that it turned out quite nicely.

Jack: (looking over my shoulder) Ya finished it?

Me: Yep. The challenge was "Write a scene that takes place at the grave of a newsie."

Dutchy: Who'd ya kill off?

Me: Not telling.

Specs: Oh, come on. Tell us!

Me: No.

Spot: Tell us, or I'll soak ya! (holds up cane threateningly)

Me: If ya bums don't knock it off, I'll kill _all_ of you off. (newsies all look at each other, then agree to shut up) Thank you. (turns back to my computer) Sorry about that. Anyways, before I start the story, I'd like to give a huge thanks to **Vireyda Magodaly **for all the help that she gave me with this fic. I couldn't have done it without her! And now, without further ado, on with the story!

* * *

It has been almost a year since it happened. Part of me has been in denial about the whole thing this entire time. But that is why I have come today. I am finally ready to move on. At least, I think I am.

The frost-covered grass crunches under my worn out boots as I cross the desolate graveyard. A cold wind blows, and I pull my threadbare coat tighter to me, trying to fend off the December chill as I reach the grave.

Kneeling down, I run my hand lightly over the tombstone, tears beginning to form in my eyes as I read the date again.

_March 17, 1882-January 13, 1901._ I shake my head sadly. So young…only 19 years old when it happened. I just sit for awhile, thinking about the past year. I also think of the future, about what I'm going to tell my daughter, Rogue, when she gets old enough to ask about her Daddy. I hear someone walk up behind me, but I don't turn around. I'm not quite ready to leave.

"Bookworm?" I look behind me and see Dutchy standing there, looking somewhat awkward, holding a small bundle in his arms. The small bundle is my baby girl--who is crying at the moment. "I think she wants her mom." I smile and stand up. Gently taking my two-month-old daughter from him, I start to sway back and forth slightly, trying to get Rogue to stop crying.

"Shhh, baby. Mommy's here," I say quietly. She quiets down the moment she hears my voice, and she smiles up at me. I smile back at her, though my heart breaks at the same time. Her Daddy will never have a chance to see her smile. I look back up at Dutchy. "Thanks for watching her." He smiles.

"You're welcome." There's a pause, then he speaks again, sounding nervous. "What are you going to tell her?" he wants to know. I think about it for a moment before answering.

"The truth," I say. "I'm going to tell her exactly what happened the night that…" I trail off, still finding it difficult to say. After a few moments, he asks the question that everyone wants to know the answer to.

"What _did_ happen that night, Bookworm?" he asks gently. I simply look at him for a minute or two, trying to decide where to begin.

"It was the day I found out that I was pregnant with Rogue. Of course, we didn't know that it was a girl, but that didn't matter. He was so thrilled that he was going to be a father. We decided to go out and celebrate. Everything went fine until we started back towards the Lodging House. We were passing by an alley when I was suddenly grabbed and forced towards the back end. He tried to fight them off, but Morris had a knife, and Morris stabbed him in the gut. He fell, and didn't get back up. Luckily for me, Oscar and Morris heard the bulls coming, so they ran, leaving me alone with my dying husband." Tears are running down my face as I talk, but I don't stop the story. It needs to be told, so that my daughter's father's heroic sacrifice can live on. "He told me not to worry, that he'd be alright, but I could tell that he was lying, and he knew it. He told me to continue living so that I could raise our child. He wanted me to move on." I turn and look back at the grave, then I turn to face Dutchy again. "I think I'm finally ready to do just that." I look down at Rogue. "I want to make sure that she grows up knowing that her Daddy was hero." Dutchy smiles at me.

"I'm sure she'll never doubt that." A brisk wind picks up, whipping my brown hair in all directions. I shiver slightly and pull Rogue's blankets tighter around her. I come to a sudden decision, knowing it's what he would have wanted me to do.

"Could you hold her for a moment?" I ask. Dutchy nods, and I gently place Rogue in his arms. Turning back towards the grave, I slowly slip the ring off my finger and place it at the base of the tombstone. Turning back, I take my daughter back, and we start to walk away. Taking one last glance back, I say a final goodbye to my best friend and husband, Racetrack Higgins.


	2. Dialogue only

Me: Wow, two challenges in less than a week! I hope that you guys like this one as much as you liked the last one I did. Thank you all for your wonderful reviews; they really made my day!

Spot: Yeah, you was all excited, jumpin' up and down, squealin'…

Me: I was not!

Jack: Yeah you were.

Me: Well, can ya blame me? I don't get that many reviews. When I get reviews, I get happy. Anyways, on with the story! Oh, a just a little note: this does not tie into any of my other stories.

* * *

"Come on, Specs. Just call her. It's not that hard."

"Easy for _you_ to say, Dutchy. You've got a girl already."

"I'll bet you 5 bucks that you can't do it."

"You're on!"

"Well?"

"Hold on, it's ringing."

"Hello?"

"Is Alison there?"

"This is she."

"Oh, hey Bookworm. It's Specs."

"Hey, Specs. What's up?"

"Not much. I just had a question that I wanted to ask ya."

"Okay."

"I was just wonderin' if you would…uh…if I could borrow a book from you."

(in the background) "Chicken! I knew you couldn't do it!"

"Sure! What book?"

"I uh…I don't know what it's called."

"Well, what's it about?"

"It's about…um…a boy and a girl. And the boy wants to ask this girl out, but he's afraid to, cause he's afraid that she'll say no. But he really wants to ask her out. And so one of his friends tries to help him, and he calls her on the phone, but he chickens out at the last moment, and instead of asking her out, he asks if he could borrow a book…I mean a movie from her."

"Specs?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you trying to ask me out?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"On if you're gonna say yes or not."

"And if I told you that I would say yes if you asked me out?"

"Then I'd ask you."

"Specs?"

"What?"

"I'd say yes."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Will you be my girl?"

"I'd love to be your girl, Specs."


	3. Ninjas

The Challenge: Take an idea that you've previously had/outlined/written. Long, short, song, dance, whatever, find one that you think might have some potential and take it one out. (If it's an idea for a longer story, just take one part) Write it five different times:

ONCE with ninjas

ONCE with a (sad) death

ONCE with a baby

ONCE with a thunderstorm

and

ONCE with you favorite song lyrics as a central quote

This chapter is the ninja part of the challenge. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

I don't know how it happened. All I know is that one minute, I was lying on my bed, in my room, trying to fall asleep, and the next thing I knew, I was lying on a top bunk in some type of old-fashioned bunkroom, staring at the person across from me. All I had done was roll over onto my side. My eyes widened when I realized who I was looking at.

Jack Kelly was, thankfully, fast asleep. I slowly sat up. Looking around, I confirmed my suspicions--I was in the Newsies bunkroom. I quietly climbed down to the floor, noticing as I did so that I was already dressed in my "newsies outfit". I was wearing an off-white, lace up shirt with a black camisole underneath it. A pair of black suspenders were clipped onto a pair of brown pants. Brown boots were on my feet. The only difference that I noticed was how worn everything was. The pants had a few patches, and the shirt had a tear on one of the sleeves. The boots seemed to be in pretty good shape though.

I made my way towards the washroom, but before I got there, Kloppman appeared at the top of the stairs.

"You're up early, Bookworm," he commented. This threw me for a loop. _How does he know my newsie-name?_ I decided to worry about it later.

"I couldn't sleep," I told him--which was the truth. "So I decided to get up before you came in yellin'." He laughed and went to go get the other newsies up.

I splashed some cold water on my face a sI tried to make sense of what had happened to me. One by one the newsies all came into the washroom. Most of them ignored me, which I didn't mind at all.

"Mornin', Bookworm." I turned around and came face to face with none other than Racetrack Higgins. _What is going on here? First Kloppman and now Racetrack! How do they know my newsie-name?_ After a moment, I got over my shock.

"Mornin', Race," I said, heading back to the bunkroom.

"You gonna sell with me today?" he asked, following me.

"I promised you yesterday that I would," I told him as I put on my tanish-colored newsie hat. My mind whirled the moment the words left my mouth. _What on Earth possessed me to say that?!_ Racetrack grinned.

"Great! I'll meet ya downstairs, k?" I nodded.

"Alright," I called over my shoulder.

As I waited for Racetrack next to Kloppman's desk, I tried again to make sense of what had happened. All I knew so far was that I had somehow ended up in "Newsie Land" and that they all apparently knew me. It appeared that my subconscious knew things that I didn't--like I had promised Racetrack that I would sell with him today.

"Ready?" Racetrack asked, breaking me out of my thoughts. I smiled.

"Yeah."

We walked towards the Distribution Office in silence. Finally Racetrack spoke up.

"It seems like it's going to be a nice day today," he said. I nodded.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Good day for sellin'." Racetrack nodded, but didn't say anything.

As we approached the Distribution Office, I noticed something out of the ordinary. Ninjas were guarding the entrance into the Distribution Office. _What aare ninjas doing here?_ I leaned closer to Racetrack.

"What's with the ninjas?" I whispered. He looked at me like I had grown another head.

"They've _always_ been there, Bookworm," he said slowly. "Ever since we lost the strike."

_They lost the strike?!_ "So why are they there?" I asked. "Just humor me Race," I said, seeing the look he was giving me.

"To make sure we don't go on strike again." He looked dejected for a moment. "I doubt we'd go on strike again…not after what happened last time." Something in his tone warned me not to ask what had happened last time. I had probably been there, even if I didn't remember. Something strange was going on here in Newsie Land: the Newsies had lost the strike, and now ninjas were making sure the Newsies were staying in line. _What_ was going on?


	4. Sad Death

This chapter is the sad death part of the challenge. The first few paragraphs are the same--it changes at the line "I couldn't sleep." Oh--and for those who were wondering: I get these challenges from a challenge group in Yahoo. It won't let me put the link up here, but if you want the link, let me know either in your review or by emailing me (my email is in my profile--it won't let me put my email address up either, cause they're being dumb) and I'll email you the link.

* * *

I don't know how it happened. All I know is that one minute, I was lying on my bed, in my room, trying to fall asleep, and the next thing I knew, I was lying on a top bunk in some type of old-fashioned bunkroom, staring at the person across from me. All I had done was roll over onto my side. My eyes widened when I realized who I was looking at. 

Jack Kelly was, thankfully, fast asleep. I slowly sat up. Looking around, I confirmed my suspicions--I was in the Newsies bunkroom. I quietly climbed down to the floor, noticing as I did so that I was already dressed in my "newsies outfit". I was wearing an off-white, lace up shirt with a black camisole underneath it. A pair of black suspenders were clipped onto a pair of brown pants. Brown boots were on my feet. The only difference that I noticed was how worn everything was. The pants had a few patches, and the shirt had a tear on one of the sleeves. The boots seemed to be in pretty good shape though.

I made my way towards the washroom, but before I got there, Kloppman appeared at the top of the stairs.

"You're up early, Bookworm," he commented. This threw me for a loop. _How does he know my newsie-name?_ I decided to worry about it later.

"I couldn't sleep," I told him--which was the truth. "So I decided to get up before you came in yellin'." Kloppman laughed and went to go get the other newsies up. Halfway there, he collapsed. I cried out in dismay and ran to his side. One hand was holding his walking stick and the other was clutching his chest--right over his heart. I checked for a pulse, and to my horror, I found none.

"Somebody help!" I yelled, hoping to wake up at least one of the newsboys. I started CPR, hoping and praying that I'd be able to revive him.

"Someone go get a doctor!" someone yelled. Footsteps pounded down the stairs as one of the newsies ran to do as he asked. I spared a glance to my right and saw Jack crouched next to me. "What happened, Bookworm?"

I just shook my head and didn't answer, not having time to wonder how Jack knew my newsie-name as well. I was starting to tire, but I didn't stop. If I did, I knew that Kloppman would die. After a few minutes, Jack gently laid a hand on my arm.

"He's gone, Bookworm. There's nothing you can do," he said quietly. I sat back, breathing hard, knowing that he was right. I had tried my hardest, and that's all I could do.

I fought back tears as I looked at Kloppman's now lifeless body. Jack put an arm around my shoulders, and I broke down. He put his other arm around me as he pulled me into a hug. I sobbed into his shirt, not caring if it seemed weak. I felt as if I had known Kloppman somehow, and not just through the movie or the fanfics.

I don't know how long I sat there crying with Jack's arms around me. But my tears finally ebbed, and I fell asleep.


	5. Baby

This time around, I had to include a baby. Once again, the first few paragraphs are the same. This time it changes when Kloppman comes up the stairs. Enjoy!

* * *

I don't know how it happened. All I know is that one minute, I was lying on my bed, in my room, trying to fall asleep, and the next thing I knew, I was lying on a top bunk in some type of old-fashioned bunkroom, staring at the person across from me. All I had done was roll over onto my side. My eyes widened when I realized who I was looking at.

Jack Kelly was, thankfully, fast asleep. I slowly sat up. Looking around, I confirmed my suspicions--I was in the Newsies bunkroom. I quietly climbed down to the floor, noticing as I did so that I was already dressed in my "newsies outfit". I was wearing an off-white, lace up shirt with a black camisole underneath it. A pair of black suspenders were clipped onto a pair of brown pants. Brown boots were on my feet. The only difference that I noticed was how worn everything was. The pants had a few patches, and the shirt had a tear on one of the sleeves. The boots seemed to be in pretty good shape though.

I made my way towards the washroom, but before I got there, Kloppman appeared at the top of the stairs, holding a small bundle in his arms.

"Ah, Bookworm--you're just the person I wanted to see," he told me. I was surprised. _How does he know my newsie-name?_

"What can I do for ya Kloppman?" I asked, deciding to just go with the flow for now. Kloppan came closer, and I saw that he was holding a baby who couldn't be more than a week old.

"I found this little guy abandoned outside. I want you to take care of him." My mind whirled at this revelation. He wanted _me_ to raise this kid? How was I supposed to do that? I determined that I'd find a way.

"Why me?" I finally got out, reaching out to take the baby from Kloppman.

"This little tyke deserves at least a mother," Kloppman said, placing the baby gently in my arms. "A mother who will be able to raise him past the age of ten."

"But why me?" I asked again, choosing to ignore that last comment. Kloppman smiled at me.

"I've seen ya with the little ones, Bookworm," he said. "You've become a mother to them. When I found this little guy outside, I knew that you would be the best one to raise him." I didn't say anything for a few moments. That was really nice of Kloppman to have that much faith in me. It also gave me a small insight to who they thought I was. I looked up at Kloppman.

"I'll do my best," I said, not wanting to let him or the baby down. Kloppman smiled broadly.

"I knew I could count on ya, Bookworm," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "We'll clean out one of the small storage rooms so that he won't wake anyone else up at night." I nodded.

"Sounds good to me," I said as he left to go wake everyone up.

I looked down at the sleeping child in my arms. _How in the world am I going to raise him?_ I wondered. I resolved once more that I'd find a way. For now, though, he needed a name. I said and thought about it, finally deciding to name him William.

I knew that my life was about to become quite complicated, what with being thrown into Newsie Land and all, and now I suddenly had a child to raise. The best thing that I could think of to do was to simply hold my head high, and face whatever came at me head on.


	6. Thunderstorm

Okay, four down, one more to go! This is the scene that has to include a thunderstorm. This time around it changes right after I sit up and discover where I am.

* * *

I don't know how it happened. All I know is that one minute, I was lying on my bed, in my room, trying to fall asleep, and the next thing I knew, I was lying on a top bunk in some type of old-fashioned bunkroom, staring at the person across from me. All I had done was roll over onto my side. My eyes widened when I realized who I was looking at. 

Jack Kelly was, thankfully, fast asleep. I slowly sat up. Looking around, I confirmed my suspicions--I was in the Newsies bunkroom.

As I sat there trying to decide what to do, a flash of lightning lit the room, followed closely by a clash of thunder that shook the walls. I smiled. I _loved _thunderstorms. Jack opened his eyes.

"Hey, Bookworm," he said. _How does he know my newsie-name?_ I wondered.

"Hey," I said, playing along for now.

"So, who's gonna be scared tonight?" he asked, ginning. Before I could ask him what he meant, a small voice came from between our two beds.

"Cowboy," it hissed, "is Bookworm awake?" I couldn't help smiling. Whoever it was, they were trying to be quiet, but apparently didn't know how. Jack smiled.

"I don't know, Scooter. Why don't you ask her?"

"I can't!" the boy gasped. "Last time I woke her up, she yelled at me." Jack raised an eyebrow at me. I shook my head. I highly doubt that I had _yelled_. Another clap of thunder sounded, this time seemingly right above us. Scooter gasped.

"Bookworm!" he cried. I propped myself up onto one elbow and looked down at the small boy.

"What is it, Scooter?" I asked.

"I'm scared!" he said, it sounded like he was about to cry. I looked at Jack, and he rolled his eyes.

"Alright, come on up here," I called down. Scooter didn't waste a second. He scrambled onto my bed and into my lap faster than you could say "Carryin' the banner." The poor kid could have been more than six years old. "It's okay, Scooter," I said, putting an arm around him. "Want me to tell you a story?" I asked, hoping to make him forget about the storm--at least until Kloppman came in to get everyone up. That is, if newsies sold on days like today. Scooter nodded.

"Yeah!"

"Okay, let's see…have I ever told you 'Goldilocks and the Three Bears'?" Scooter shook his head. "Well, once upon a time…" As I told the story, I noticed Jack watching me. I smiled at him and continued talking, keeping Scooter's mind off of the storm. At one point, I glanced down at Scooter, a noticed that he was fast asleep. I grinned and carefully laid him down on the bed. Then I carefully climbed down from the bed, and headed downstairs towards the lounge. When I got there, I sat down on the couch and stared out the window, watching as the rain poured down.

"They really look up to ya you know," a voice commented. I jumped in surprise and looked up. Racetrack grinned sheepishly. "Sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to scare you." I smiled.

"That's alright," I told him. "Who looks up to me?" I asked, confused.

"The little ones," Racetrack said, nodding towards the stairs leading up to the bunkroom. "You're always there for them, no matter what. You care about them, and they can see that. It's like you've become their mother." I was silent for a few moments, thinking about Racetrack had just told me, and to be honest, it kinda scared me. I was practically a mother to all the little kids? That meant I was supposed to know all of their names, what they all liked, what they didn't like, and, the biggest one of all, I was the one who probably kept them in line half the time. I had gotten lucky with Scooter--Jack had addressed him by name, and I was able to just guess how to deal with his fear of thunder.

But what about all the others? I couldn't exactly ask people what their names were. I shook myself out of my thoughts when I noticed Racetrack looking at me strangely.

"You okay?" he asked. I smiled.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I told him. "Just thinkin'."

"'Bout what?" he asked, putting his cigar in his mouth, and sitting down next to me. I grinned.

"About how angry Kloppman will be if you light that thing in here," I joked. Racetrack scowled jokingly and took the cigar out of his mouth. "You were thinkin' about me again, weren't ya?" he asked, slinging an arm around my shoulders. I laughed and punched him playfully.

"Yeah, you wish," I said, but I made no motion to move his arm off of me. A minute or two passed, neither of us saying anything. The only sound that could be heard was the rain hitting the street outside, with the occasional rumble of thunder.

I sat there thinking about what had happened to me, and what I could possibly do about it. Don't get me wrong--I was ecstatic about the fact that I had somehow ended up in "Newsie Land", but I had to be realistic. I had somehow shown up as the character that I had created, and all the newsies knew her. If this was indeed the case, then I had been with the newsies for at least eight years--possibly more depending on when the strike had happened. If it had already happened, that is. I sighed and put my head on Racetrack's shoulder, who still hadn't moved his arm.

"Are you sure that you're alright, Bookworm?" Racetrack asked softly.

"I'm fine, Race. I'm just tryin' to figure some stuff out, that's all."

"Would it help to talk about it?" he wanted to know. I lifted my head off his shoulder and looked at him.

"Probably not now," I told him. I gave him a kiss on the cheek, then pulled back. "But you'll be the first person I'll come to if I do decide to talk about it, okay?" He nodded.

"I'll hold ya to that," he warned, pointing a finger at me and looking me in the eyes. I laughed, but didn't look away. For a few moments, neither of us moved. Then Racetrack began to lean forward slowly, as if making sure to give me plenty of time to pull away. I stayed where I was, though I have no idea why. After all, I had only known Racetrack for (at the most) ten minutes. But Bookworm had known him for far much longer.

When his lips touched mine, I felt as though an electric shock went through me. _Apparently I like this guy…a lot,_ I thought to myself. That was the last coherent thought I had before losing myself in his kiss. As the kiss intensified, I felt Racetrack wrap his arms around my waist as I wrapped mine around his neck. After a while, we gradually pulled apart, both trying to catch our breaths.

"Wow," I finally managed to get out. Racetrack was beaming.

"I've been wanting to do that for quite some time now," he said. I smiled.

"So have I," I replied, thinking about Bookworm.

"Come on," Racetrack said, standing up and holding a hand out to me. "It sounds like the rain is letting up. We should start getting ready to sell." I nodded and took his hand, and we headed back up the stairs, hand in hand.


	7. What are you doing?

The Challenge: write a story (length, era, ect. all up to you), but the only two lines of dialogue that you can use are "What are you doing?" and "What does it look like?".

****

A/N: For those of you who remember the gravesite challenge that I wrote (chapter one), this is a sequel to that.

"What are you doing?" Bookworm whispered, cursing the nervousness that laced her voice. Dutchy was getting closer, and Bookworm's heart was pounding a mile a minute. Part of her was screaming at her to run away, yet part of her was longing to stay. Was she ready for this to happen? Ever since the day in December six months ago, the day that Bookworm had decided she could finally move on, she and Dutchy had grown increasingly closer.

They had been hanging out for about a month or two when Dutchy finally got up the courage to ask Bookworm out on a real date; one where Bookworm could leave Rogue with Jack or somebody else while the two of them went dancing. Bookworm was hesitant at first, but finally agreed when Dutchy said that she deserved a night out.

That night, Bookworm had the most fun that she had had since Racetrack had passed away. Leaving Rogue in the care of Specs, Dutchy took her to Tibby's for dinner, and insisted on paying for it. After that, they went to see a show at Medda's, followed by the promised dancing. At one point Bookworm started to get worried about Rogue, and Dutchy assured her that she was just fine with Specs. But when Bookworm continued to worry, Dutchy led her over to a phone, called the Lodging House, asked for Specs, and handed Bookworm the phone. After Specs guaranteed that Rogue was doing just fine, Bookworm was satisfied and she hung up. Dutchy waved off any apologies that Bookworm tried to make for worrying, saying that it was perfectly alright that she was worried about her daughter, and admitted that he had been glad to know that everything was just fine. By the time they got back to the Lodging House, Rogue was fast asleep, and Bookworm was exhausted, but in a good way.

That was just the first of many dates to come. And now, six months later, it was looking like they were about to have their first kiss, unless Bookworm did something to stop it.

"What are you doing?" Bookworm asked again, when Dutchy didn't answer. He smiled tenderly and moved a lock of her brown hair out of her face.

"What does it look like?" he asked softly, before covering her lips with his. Any doubts that Bookworm may have had completely vanished the moment Dutchy kissed her. All she could think about was the feel of his lips on hers, how right it felt, and how she never wanted this moment to end. Unfortunately, all good things must end at some point.

Rogue crawled over to Bookworm and started tugging on her pant leg. Bookworm pulled away and looked down. Seeing her now eight-month-old daughter, she smiled. Rogue held up her arms, indicating she wanted to be picked up. Dutchy smiled, reached down, and picked her up. Looking at Bookworm, he smiled, and she smiled back. Life had just changed between them, but, without a doubt, for the better.


	8. Challenge 1

A/N: Okay, this challenge was given _months_ ago. It was actually the first challenge on the site. So, it's a little late (yeah, more like 8 months late…) Anyway, I just got inspiration for it, so I wrote it and posted it! Here's what the challenge was:

Okay, this challenge was given a long time ago. It was actually the first challenge on the site. So, it's a little late (yeah, more like 8 months late…) Anyway, I just got inspiration for it, so I wrote it and posted it! Here's what the challenge was: 

TIME PERIOD: Up to you  
LENGTH: Up to you  
CHARACTERS: Choose three: Oscar, Blink, Medda, Snoddy, Mayer, Racetrack, Snipeshooter  
MUST INCLUDE OR REFERENCE: at least four of the following: -a broken picture frame -day old newspapers -a loose doorknob -a bloody nose -someone's allergies -a stutter -traintracks -faulty dice  
INCLUDE THESE QUOTES: at least two of the following:  
"It had the ring of impending doom."  
"Together, it's summer forever."  
"I'm not a coward, I've just never been tested."  
"If it was funny, then I'd be laughing."  
"Good art won't match your sofa."

Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

"Ya shouldn't of bet, Blink," I stated, walking along the overgrown train tracks. His brow furrowed. 

"Why not?" he asked, reaching over and taking my hand.

"Oh please. With faulty dice, it had the ring of impending doom," I commented, stepping over a broken picture frame. Blink suddenly stopped walking, forcing me to stop as well, since he was holding my hand.

"What is it?" I asked, puzzled. Blink hesitated for a moment.

"Well, I don't know how you'll react if I kissed ya." I smiled.

"I think it's safe to say that I won't slap you." Blink still looked unsure.

"What if you do something worse?" he asked. I rolled my eyes.

"Like what?" I asked, struggling not to laugh.

"Like giving me a bloody nose," he pointed out, as though it was obvious. I laughed.

"I'd only give a bloody nose to Oscar or Morris," I promised. When Blink _still_ looked slightly scared, I sighed.

"Oh come on ya coward! Stop jabberin' and kiss me!" I half wined, getting sick of waiting. Blink looked insulted.

"I am _not_ a coward. I've just never been tested," he insisted stubbornly.

"Yeah, well, ya still sound like a coward to me, Blink." I sighed, deciding to take matters into my own hands. "You've got the next five seconds to kiss me before I walk away. Five, four, three, two…one. You lose!" I turned on my heal and started walking away.

I had only taken a few steps when a hand landed on my arm. The hand spun me around, and a pair of lips crashed onto my own, rather forcefully, I might add. But I didn't care. All I cared about at the moment was that Blink was _finally_ kissing me. Right as the kiss began to deepen, someone called out,

"Get a room you two!" Blink immediately pulled back, blushing madly. I rolled my eyes and turned to face the intruder.

"Aw, shove it, Race!" I called, not letting go of Blink. I turned back. "Now, where were we?" I asked with a grin. Blink looked hesitant.

"But Racetrack is standing right there," he told me. I shrugged and leaned forward.

"Just ignore him," I said, then kissed him. When he didn't respond, I pulled away with a sigh and turned towards Racetrack again. "Do you mind?" I asked, annoyed. Racetrack grinned and shook his head. "Don't make me come over there and kick your trash. I _will_ bust a RAD move on ya if you don't get out of here." Racetrack's eyebrows furrowed.

"RAD?" he repeated. I grinned somewhat evilly.

"Rape Aggressive Defense. In other words: how to kick a guy where it _really _hurts and get away." Racetrack winced and decided that it would be in his best interest to leave Blink and I alone. Once Racetrack had left, I turned back to Blink.

"Would you have actually done that?" he asked, sounding worried. I laughed and shook my head.

"No. I would _never _use it on one of my friends," I assured him. "But it does give me a _wonderful_ bargaining chip," I said with an impish smirk. Blink grinned back, and leaned in somewhat slowly.

"You little devil," he whispered. I kept smirking.

"You know it," I murmured right before he kissed me again. We kissed for a long time before we decided to start heading back. On the way back, I leaned my head on Blink's shoulder as he wrapped an arm around my waist.

Life is good.


	9. 1000 words

**A/N: **Hey all! I'm back! The challenge group has started issuing challenges again, and this was the first one. Granted, it was given over two months ago, but I've finally finished it! The challenge: start with "Everything would have been if he just hadn't…" and end with "Mondays were always rotten anyhow." The catch: it has to be **EXACTLY** 1,000 words. No more, no less. And I've finally done it! So, without further ado, on with the story!

* * *

Everything would have been fine if he just hadn't come back. But Daniel did, so now Jack won't talk to me, much less listen to me when I try to explain. Maybe I should back up. 

Today started the same as every other day. Kloppman came and woke us up at the crack of dawn. I rolled out of bed and headed over to the washroom, struggling to keep my eyes open. Splashing some icy water on my face, I caught sight of Jack in the mirror. He was grinning at something Mush had said, and my heart skipped a beat. I remember thinking about how part of me still couldn't believe that I was his girl. My mind flashed back to our first kiss…

"_Bookworm, what are ya doing?" Jack yelled over the pouring rain. I stopped twirling for a moment._

"_Dancing in the rain, what else does it look like?" Jack shook his head, probably thinking I was nuts._

"_You're crazy!" he said, confirming my thoughts. "You'll get sick if you stay out here much longer." I grinned._

"_It'll be worth it!" I called back. I suddenly ran up to him, a big grin on my face. "Come join me," I said, trying to pull him out into the street. Jack just laughed at my efforts, not budging an inch._

_Switching tactics, I moved behind him, planning to push Jack out into the street. At the last possible moment, right before my hands touched his back, Jack suddenly spun around and grabbed my wrists gently. He took a step forward, forcing me to raise my chin slightly to look at him. Reaching up, he brushed a strand of hair out of my face. Shifting slightly he moved his hand until his fingers wrapped around mine, fitting perfectly. With a gentle tug, he pulled me closer. I was positive that Jack could hear my heart pounding against my chest. His eyes held mine captive, and I couldn't look away, even if I wanted to. Suddenly, Jack spoke up._

"_Nah, you'd probably smack me." I blinked, completely confused._

"_What are you talking about?" Jack grinned sheepishly and…wait, was he _blushing_? Looking closer, I fought back a grin. It was faint, but Jack was definitely red._

"_If I kissed you, you'd probably slap me." Now it was my turn to blush._

"_What makes you think that I would slap you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light. Jack looked surprised._

"_You wouldn't?" he asked. I smiled and shook my head._

"_No." That was all I got out before Jack kissed me. Time seemed to stand still, and sounds faded away as the two of us stood there, kissing in the rain…_

I jumped as a pair of arms wrapped around my waist from behind, bringing me out of my thoughts. Looking in the mirror I grinned when I saw Jack.

"Hey," I said, turning around. Jack smiled back and kissed me lightly.

"Meet me at Tibby's when you're done, okay?" he said after he pulled away. I nodded.

"Okay." We both finished getting ready and with a quick kiss, we went our separate ways.

About six hours later, I was almost done selling when I heard someone calling my name. Turning around, I let out a squeal of surprise and delight.

"Daniel!" I cried, running up and throwing my arms around him. "How are you?"

"I'm wonderful. How about you?" he asked with a grin.

"Great!" I said, shifting my papers slightly. "What brings you back to New York?"

"My father is here on business," Daniel explained. "And I really wanted to see you," he said, reaching out and taking my hand. My eyes widened as I realized what he was saying. Before I had a chance to reply, Daniel leaned in and kissed me. I stood frozen in shock for a few seconds before I pulled away.

"Daniel…this isn't going to work. I have a boyfriend who I love, and he loves me. I'm sorry." To my relief, Daniel just smiled sadly.

"It was worth a shot," he said. "I hope that we can always be good friends." I nodded.

"Of course. But right now I have to go. It was great seeing you again," I said sincerely. With a quick hug, I was off to meet Jack.

"Hey," I said as I slid into the seat across from Jack at Tibby's. Jack just looked at me, unsmiling, his gaze hard. "What?" I asked nervously, wondering what was going on. After an eternity, he spoke.

"How long have you been cheating on me?" My mouth dropped open in shock. That had been the last thing I had expected him to say.

"Jack, what are you talking about?" I asked, my mind whirling in panic. He scoffed.

"Don't act so innocent," he sneered. "You know exactly what I'm talking about." An image of Daniel kissing me flashed across my mind, and I gasped.

"You mean Daniel?" I asked, relieved.

"Oh, is that his name?" Jack said, but I ignored him.

"He's an old friend of mine," I explained with a smile, glad that I knew what Jack had seen. Jack rolled his eyes.

"Sure he is," he said. "I've heard that one before." I just stared at him for a few moments.

"Jack, I'm telling you the truth. He just came back to New York for a visit. There's nothing between us!" Jack pushed his chair away from the table and stood up.

"You're right, Bookworm," he said. "There's nothing between us." Without giving me a chance to say anything more, Jack turned and left.

I'm not sure how long I have been sitting here, just thinking about how everything had gone wrong today. I had thought that today was going to be wonderful. It was supposed to be a celebration of Jack and my three month anniversary. But then I realized something important: today is Monday. I should have known something bad would happen.

Mondays were always rotten anyhow.


	10. random challenge

**The challenge: **

Include at least one of the following quotes:  
"I swear, Blink, if you play that BEEP Billy Joel song again, I'm gonna kill you."  
"It's because Jack's a man-whore," (s)he said matter-of-factly.  
"It was if (s)he knew that real life was not a musical, but was determined to make it one."

Include at least three of the following items: Clean sheets, A men's sweater, stinky shoes, a car, a piece of chewed-up gum, an Ipod or other MP3 player, a microphone, a needle of the sewing variety, a Band-Aid, a fluffy pink sock

Include at least 2 of the following emotions: Anger, Jealousy, Annoyance, Love, Mischief, Panic, Embarrassment

Include at least 2 newsies and 1 OC

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Digging through my sewing bag, I barely glanced up as Jack spoke.

"Bookworm, it's fine. Sweaters get holes. You don't have to--" I cut him off.

"Jack, you are _not_ going out with a huge hole in your sweater. Now take it off before I pull it off."

"You might want to wait until I'm not around before you two go at it," Spot's voice drawled from across the room. I laughed and straightened up, thread and sewing needle in hand.

"You're just jealous," I said, walking over to Jack and holding out my hand. Jack sighed and pulled the sweater over his head. I smiled sweetly.

"Thank you," I said, leaning in and kissing him on the cheek. Jack rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. As I patched up the hole, I started singing quietly. I had had a song stuck in my head all day, and I was hoping that if I sang it all the way through, then it would leave me in peace.

"Why do you like to sing so much?" Spot suddenly asked. I looked up at him for a few moments.

"I don't know," I said, shaking my head slightly. "I just do." Jack grinned.

"It's as if she knows that real life isn't a musical, but she's determined to make it one," he said with a laugh. Spot shook his head.

"Musicals are so fake," he said. "Nobody ever bursts out into song and dance like that." I just stared at him.

"You haven't been around Pockets and I very much, have you?" I asked slowly. "Ouch!" I dropped Jack's sweater onto my lap in surprise. Both Spot and Jack looked at me, confused.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked. I sighed.

"I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing and I accidentally stabbed myself with my needle," I said in annoyance, holding up my finger to inspect the damage. A small drop of blood was gradually seeping out. I rolled my eyes.

"Jack, could you hand me my sewing bag, please?" I asked, holding my finger over the side of the chair so no blood would get on the sweater. Jack nodded and got up.

"Thank you," I said, taking it from him. Rummaging around, I finally found what I was looking for. "Yes! I knew I had one in here!" I cried in triumph, holding up a band-aid.

"You carry band-aids in you sewing bag?" Spot asked, one eyebrow raised. I nodded.

"Yep. It makes perfect sense, considering how often I jab myself with a needle while I'm sewing," I said as I wrapped the band-aid around my finger.

"I'm just glad it wasn't your ring finger," Jack said. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Any particular reason why?" I asked, quickly finishing up my patching job.

"I don't know if this engagement ring would fit over the band-aid," Jack said calmly, pulling a velvet box out of his pocket. I froze, just staring at the box in his hand. Time seemed to stand still as Jack walked over to me and got down on one knee.

"Marry me?" he asked simply. After a few unsuccessful attempts to get my voice to work, I just nodded, a huge grin on my face. Jack grinned back, and slid the ring onto my finger. Standing up, he pulled me up as well. The sweater landed in a forgotten pile on the floor as Jack dipped me backwards and kissed me passionately. Neither of us heard Spot leave, nor did we really care, if truth be told. All that mattered was that our future had opened promisingly before us.


End file.
